


Volens Cogitandi

by gayoceancove



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Brotherhood, Fluff, Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayoceancove/pseuds/gayoceancove
Summary: Aramis and d'Artagnan find themselves detained for an evening after an infiltration mission goes awry. Fluff and cuteness ensues along with a sprinkling of gay angst.This is literally based on a dream I had a few months ago and wrote out in my notes so I wouldn't forget, only I changed it from first person (d'Artagnan POV) to third person.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderfully talented partner for beta reading so I don't make a fool of myself on the internet.

They’d been sat there for what seemed like hours, on a very hard floor which Aramis continued to grumble about, wrists tied and listening to this halfwit nobility reject ramble about his ingenious plans to win favour at court. The usual cocktail of blackmail and bribery of legitimate noblemen and women.

After five minutes Aramis had worked the concealed blade from his sleeve and began to work on freeing himself. A further ten and d’Artagnan was subtly slipping said blade back into its hiding place in his brother's sleeve.  

When the noble brat finally returned to his guests they were left alone in the small attic room. “Well as entertaining as that little show was, I rather think we should be going.” d’Artagnan remarked as he made to get up from his place seated on the floor. Aramis caught his shoulder “Perhaps you might reconsider brother, unless you plan to exit via the roof I highly doubt we’ll slip through the house unnoticed. There are far too many witnesses downstairs.”

The younger musketeer sighed and continued to stand, stretching out his cramped leg muscles “You mean there are too many young ladies that might recognise you.” he sighed dramatically and smirked at Aramis who was attempting to feign innocence.

“I was merely referring to the fact that neither of us are appropriately dressed for the occasion and would inevitably stand out.” Aramis stood gracefully, making a sweeping gesture towards their uniforms as he straightened.

 

Forced to admit defeat for now d’Artagnan sat heavily on a dusty crate, running his hand through his hair “Then what do you propose, hm?” his hand waving in the direction of the grounds “Athos is waiting to rendezvous at the east gate in an hour and we’re stuck up here for the evening.”

Aramis frowned in contemplation, walking over to the door and pausing to listen before returning to his companion, “Just as I thought, there are two men outside to watch over us.” He smiled in what appeared to be triumph but the seated musketeer looked more frustrated than before “Aramis,” d’Artagnan pinched the bridge of his nose “How on earth does that help?” He asked incredulously, eyes narrowed upward to his friend. “Because they're going to get us out of here.” Aramis stated simply.

The younger man sighed and waited for his brother to elaborate, waving his hand in a ‘please continue’ kind of way. “Simply put, once they hear a commotion from through the door, those two halfwits will have no choice but hold us elsewhere for fear of disturbing their masters party.” d’Artagnan stood with a sigh, not entirely liking the sound of this plan “What is this ‘commotion’ then?” He saw the other man cringe slightly as he started to speak “We’ll have a fight, a nice loud brawl. That'll get their attention. So you throw some of these crates around and I'll punch you for effect..” Aramis stopped short at the look on his brother's face “..or the other way around, I can take it.” he held up his hands in a placating gesture as the other man huffed a laugh. “I can't, not that you don't make me want to half the time,” d’Artagnan chuckled again as Aramis grinned at him “But Porthos will have my head if I damaged your face.”

Aramis chuckled at that, shaking his head “I'm sure he'd understand..” d'Artagnan merely raised an eyebrow and folded his arms “Ha okay you're right. Well I promise to do less damage than our dear Porthos would.”

 

Aramis placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and positioned them near enough the door for the sounds to come through. “Okay I'll hit you, then we fall into that stack of boxes.” he squeezed the younger man's shoulder, inclining his head toward the pile. d’Artagnan nodded and readied himself. Aramis stood back slightly, met his brother's eye with an apologetic look and swung. At the last moment he feigned, arm sagging back to his side. d’Artagnan relaxed and looked at him in confusion “What?” Aramis shook his head as if to clear it “You moved. Stop moving. I'll count down so you know when it's coming,” the shorter musketeer set his jaw “One, two, three!” His fist swung again and pulled back once more. d’Artagnan huffed “For the love of God, just hit me in the face!” he said exasperated.

“You keep moving!” Aramis replied in an equally terse tone.

“Obviously because I see your hand coming for my face! I don't like being punched Aramis but you've got to anyway.” The young gascon sighed rubbing a hand over his cheek. “Close your eyes,” Aramis suggests gently, stepping forward and holding his shoulder “You won't flinch if you can't see.”

With a resigned breath d’Artagnan did as instructed. He stood in the perceived darkness listening intently for the sound of his brother’s leather doublet moving for the strike.

 

Suddenly Aramis launches across the short space between them knocking them both off balance. d’Artagnan barely registered anything beyond shock and the axis tilting, stomach dropping sensation of falling as his eyes fly open and he instinctively grabs his brother. Then he feels the soft lips on his own, the short beard bristles against his chin and the tickling sensation of Aramis’ curls on his cheek. They tumble into the pile of boxes and land in a heap of tangled limbs, Aramis mostly laid on top of the younger musketeer, keeping their lips joined almost in fear that d’Artagnan would come to his senses any moment and push him away. The shock having receded, d’Artagnan returned the kiss eagerly, mimicking the way Aramis’ hands roamed down the sides of his doublet. Aramis hummed contentedly as he felt the lad start to respond and melt under his attention, his brother’s fingers tangling in the material of his sash and holding him close. He delighted in the small sighs of pleasure emitted from d’Artagnan when he combed his hand through the man's dark hair, taking advantage of his slack jaw to nip at his lower lip, following with a soothing swipe of the tongue.  

Their increasingly heated moment was cut short by the sound of rapidly approaching footfalls and enraged shouting. Aramis would’ve been lying if he’d said he wasn’t disappointed at their reaction time, considering his young companion was just starting to relax. The guardsmen from outside their door hauled them apart, hissing curses and damnations in disgust before roughly manhandling the two musketeers out of the house through the servant’s quarters. Aramis flicked his hair from his forehead and caught his brother’s eye as they were marched into a stable block a little way from the house, he flashed d'Artagnan a triumphant smile for which he was rewarded with a long suffering sigh and huff of amusement. They were each bound at the opposite corner of an empty stall, one of the guards paused to twist around at the door “Fucking sodomites” he ground out and spat on the floor as he left.

 

Aramis gave their new surroundings a once over from his place on the straw coated ground, there was a window with a heavy shutter on the wall above him which seemed to be the best method of escape. He noticed d’Artagnan looking sheepishly at him from the opposite corner and how the lad quickly averted his gaze with a blush rising on his cheeks. “Don’t worry d’Artagnan, I’m already engineering our escape” Aramis flashed his winning smile, hoping to reassure his brother who still avoided his eye. “Put those brutes out of your mind. They don’t know what they’re talking about,” his voice remained soft and even as if talking to a spooked horse, “You know that I’m far more educated on the words of god than most men, and those men especially. He would not damn a man for who he chooses to lie with..” the younger musketeer slowly lifted his head to look at his brother, still hesitant to meet Aramis’ eye “...or who he loves.” Aramis finished, his voice almost at a whisper looking earnestly at d’Artagnan willing him to understand and not be ashamed. d’Artagnan forced his eyes up when he heard the slightly desperate tone in his brother’s voice “I know ‘Mis,” he managed a small smile, “It is not God’s judgment that I fear” he left the sentence unfinished but knew that he was understood. Aramis frowned in agreement but couldn't help the wave of relief that he felt from the lad’s confession.

Both of their attentions were suddenly drawn to the sound of shuffling feet muffled by straw coming from just outside the stable block. Moments later the door opened and footsteps approached, the two musketeers tensed themselves ready for a fight, even from their disadvantaged positions. The stall door swung open to reveal Athos and Porthos, who breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of their brothers. “Is this really where you've been all evening?” Athos remarked as he strode quickly to their youngest to cut him free, “No we started off in the attic,” d'Artagnan began before Porthos cut him off,

“You can regale us of your exploits later, now we really must be going” he said offering Aramis his hand and pulling him up. “Agreed, let's be off.” He said straightening, brushing dirt and straw from his breeches.

 

\------------------------

 

By the time they reached the garrison it was approaching first light so they each went to collapse in their quarters, already weary with the knowledge of what the next day brought. It was the King’s birthday and just as it was every year, there was a Royal parade through the streets of Paris to celebrate. This year was no exception in that attendance was high by the common people of the city and the four Inseparables had the task of keeping an eye on all of them while the Royal carriage wormed its way through the crowds. d'Artagnan, who had only managed to sleep fitfully, practically sagged with relief when they were finally dismissed, the atmosphere of the day was almost the only thing holding up his tired body. As they began to work their way through the various streets and shortcuts toward the garrison, Porthos clapped his arm around the lad's shoulder playfully, “So come on, out with it! What on earth did you get up to in that house?” He grinned at their youngest as he shook him a little by the shoulder. d'Artagnan lifted his head to Porthos and couldn't help smiling along, “Well you should really ask Aramis, he's the one who's had all those daring escapes from grand houses already.” He shot a glance over his shoulder at Aramis who merely laughed “But alas, you tell a better tale than me brother.” He chuckled, waving d'Artagnan to continue.

The younger musketeer conceded and began their tale, he told of the noble halfwit whom had they imprisoned in the attic and of Aramis’ plan. “So I'm stood there braced for the worst and he won't do it!” d'Artagnan gesticulated wildly as if still in disbelief, “Just punch me in the face, I kept telling him but he just wouldn't.” He paused for a moment before Athos cut in “So what happened? Why did they move you?” He prompted, looking expectant.

“Well naturally Aramis had a better plan, which I'll be honest my face was welcome for.” d’Artagnan took a second to calm the nerves that prickled at his composure, “He decided to kiss me instead,” d'Artagnan replied matter of factly. At this Porthos burst into laughter while Athos merely raised an eyebrow in both shock and amusement. A nervous laugh escaped the gascon as he released a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding, “So I catch on to his scheme and keep going until they find us.” The younger musketeer finished his tale with a flourish, a smile tugging his lips mostly in relief that his brothers offered no judgement upon him. Hovering just out of the lads eyeline, Aramis winced to himself at the retelling of their encounter. When he offered the story to d'Artagnan for the telling, he did so to put the gascon in control of what he would divulge to their brothers. What Aramis was not banking on was the heart seizing feeling that caught in his chest and wormed its way into the pit of his stomach. Realistically he knew that the younger musketeer wouldn't return his feelings, but it stung more than he was willing to admit. After all, they all knew that the reaction of a simple guardsman to that blasphemous sight would have the same, if not a more potent effect than a brawl between two prisoners.

 

d'Artagnan was released from Porthos’ grip as the larger man drifted slightly ahead with Athos, he spares a glance at Aramis as they fall into step and sees a futilely masked sadness on his brother's face “What is it?” Grasping his shoulder in support. Aramis manages a weak smile “Nothing. Don’t worry yourself, I'm just pleased you figured out my plot and played along.” There is a bitterness to his tone that makes the lad frown for a moment before halting their progress by turning his brother to face him properly with his other hand on Aramis’ shoulder. To his credit, Aramis does not look away as he comes round to face his brother “I never said those words ‘Mis” d'Artagnan said softly, lifting a hand to push some unruly curls out of his brothers face, the gesture causing Aramis’ eyes to widen in shock and a sparkling glimmer of hope which made d'Artagnan’s heart clench.

“You are beautiful you know” d'Artagnan almost whispers as their eyes meet. After a beat Aramis quirks an eyebrow incredulously, as if to say ‘of course I know’ making d'Artagnan snort a laugh. The shorter man chuckles along too as the lad pulls him into a tight hug which he returns gratefully. d'Artagnan bends slightly to place kisses on Aramis’ shoulder and trails up to the curve of his neck just below his hairline, making Aramis let out a pleasurable sigh. They reluctantly parted at the sound of Athos calling from up ahead, Aramis leaned in quickly to catch d'Artagnan’s lips in a chaste kiss before they moved off to catch up with their brothers. The younger man trailed slightly before walking up close to Aramis’ back, winding his arms around him and placing a kiss on the top of his soft curls.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment if you like, anything is much appreciated.


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